Read Dead Repentance
by x7Larkin
Summary: PLEASE R&R! During his travels, John Marston meets Ellie Johnson, a young outlaw on the run from her former gang. She joins John in his quest to find Bill Williamson. This is basically just the story my dorky fantasies turned into. Yes, I fantasize about John Marston. So what? It's that voice, I'm telling you... M for language, violence, and possible future sexual content.
1. Pilot

**Disclaimer: I don't own John Marston (unfortunately) or any of the other characters in this story, except Ellie Johnson. I also don't own the fictional world this story is set in, and I didn't write the dialog in some of the scenes (you should know which ones if you played the game, which I'm assuming you did, since you're here and all lol). This first chapter ends with a scene straight from the game, but I don't want you to think the whole story will be this way. I just needed a way to set it up, and this seemed to work for me.**

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><p>John Marston lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the late morning sun shining through his window. He hadn't meant to sleep so late, but but the previous nights' events had left the man exhausted. He lay staring at the ceiling of his cabin for a moment, replaying the near disaster in his head. Bonnie MacFarlane's cattle herd had been spooked by a lightning-struck tree branch in a wild rainstorm, and they had taken off like a bolt of lightning themselves, headed straight for a cliff.<p>

John didn't know much about ranching or herding cattle, but he did know how to ride a horse, and he had sent that Kentucky Saddler flying. The stallion caught up to the herd with ease, sped past them, and skidded to a halt right at the edge of the cliff. The cattle veered left and right, all except one, and in the end John had saved the majority of Bonnie's herd. She'd been more than grateful and offered to let him stay on at the ranch as long as he needed, what was hers was his, whatever he wanted. But John wasn't planning on staying long. He had a mission to complete and a family to get home to.

Slowly, he stood up off his bed and ran a hand down the wound under his ribs. It had been a little over a week since he'd gotten shot, and he had been healing up nicely. If not for Bonnie, John's quest to bring in his former brother-in-arms, Bill Williamson, would have ended as soon as it began. It was something he didn't like to think too much about. He just wanted his wife and son back. He let out a deep sigh, then began to dress and strap on his guns. After he'd plucked his hat from a stand opposite the bed and placed it gently atop his head, he made his way out of the cabin and toward Bonnie's house.

"Mornin', Mr, Marston," came a familiar voice from up ahead. He glanced up to see Bonnie walking out of the General Store. "I was startin' to get a little worried about you. You sleep all right?"

"Just fine, Miss MacFarlane, thank you," John replied with a nod. In truth, he hadn't slept well at all. Even after he was finally able to close his weary eyes, he had tossed and turned with vivid dreams, and not the pleasant kind.

Bonnie smirked at him. "That's not what those shadows under your eyes are tellin' me," she said. "Anything you'd like to talk about? Why don't you join me at the house for some tea?"

"I'd love to, Miss, but I was just on my way to let you know I'd be heading into town today. Gonna have me a chat with the marshal." John hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his pants. "I have to get things taken care of, and soon, if I ever want to get back home."

Bonnie nodded politely. "I understand. How long do you think you'll be gone?"

"Not sure, Miss McFarlane," John replied. "A few days, maybe? However long it takes me."

"It's Bonnie, John. Don't make me tell ya again," she said with a smile. "Now go on, get outta here!"

John chuckled as he turned back towards his cabin and his horse. "Yes, ma'am!"

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><p>He was about ten miles from Armadillo, descending the mountain, when he noticed a man had set up camp up ahead a bit. Thinking he could use a quick drink since he'd forgotten his canteen at the ranch, John directed his horse off to the side of the road and up the hill to the modest camp.<p>

The view from up here was amazing. He could see all the way to Lake Don Julio, and the vast desert land surrounding it took his breath away. Somewhere out there, Bill Williamson was hiding away, and John was bound and determined to find him.

"Well, howdy," the man called from the log near the unlit campfire ring.

John dismounted his horse and motioned for the steed to stay put. "Excuse me, friend," he replied as he approached. "Mind if I rest up at your camp a spell?"

"It'd be my pleasure," said the stranger. "Man needs a break from this desiccated land."

John propped a foot up on another log and leaned his elbow on his knee. "Thank you, mister." A thin stick, forked at one end and leaning against the log beside the man, caught his eye. "Say what's that stick ya got there?"

The man glanced down at it. "Oh. Ya'll ain't never seen a dousin' rod before, mister? Never seen a man summon the water up from the bare earth, uh, mister, uh...?"

"Marston," John finished for him and held out his hand. The man stood and shook it firmly. "No," he continued. "Can't say I have. If it's water you're looking for, what's wrong with that lake over there?" He pointed toward the lake off in the distance.

"Aw, there ain't nothin' wrong with Lake Don Julio," the stranger replied in his thick drawl. They both turned to admire it. "Nothin' wrong with it, but...we lack the fancy irrigation equipment you folks have back East." John chuckled at his observation. _Must have been the accent that gave it away_, he thought, amused. "Man needs a well-spring on his proper-tie to ranch here," the gentleman continued.

John nodded. "Makes sense."

"Yeah. Why, ya know, just last week, I was over at old Pleasance House and I think I may have found somethin.'" He turned back to his log and took a seat. "But, old coot that owns the place threatened to call the law down on me, so..."

John resumed his stance on his own log. "People act funny around strange men with sticks," he snickered.

"They sure do!" the man agreed. "Damn fools. Betcha he don't even know how much water's runnin' underneath his proper-tie."

"Want me to tell him?" John offered.

The man laughed. "Ya know what? Ya ain't that stupid, mister. And I can tell." He stood again and walked toward John. "I tell you what, why don't you go get the old man to sell us his proper-tie for a small pittance, then I can find the source of the water and build us a proper well-spring!"

John stood up straight and hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. "Maybe I will," he said facetiously.

The odd man clapped his hands together. "Well all right, then!" he said and laughed absurdly.

_What a strange fella_, John thought as he took a seat on the ground beside the log. The two exchanged polite chitchat for awhile, and John learned the man's name was Daniel Hannan. After a few refreshing cups of water, John mounted his horse and continued on his way toward town.


	2. Miss Johnson

John hadn't made it another two miles when he heard the gunshot. It was close, close enough to scare his horse into nearly bucking him off. He scanned the area to his right and, just as another shot was fired, saw a man stumble out from behind a boulder then drop to the ground. A woman came out after him, her gun pointed at his body, and when she was sure he was dead, she knelt beside him and began to dig through his pockets.

John brought the stallion to a complete stop, hoping the woman wouldn't notice him and he could go about his business. She'd gone back behind the rock and just when John thought all was well and began to nudge his horse slowly forward, he heard a gun cock behind him.

"Don't make another move," came a smoky voice from behind him. It was deep but feminine, and John got the sense that this woman was a force to be reckoned with. Once again, he stopped his horse, then made a swift move for the pistol in its holster on his hip. Unfortunately, she seemed to have anticipated his actions.

She sent a bullet flying mere inches from his ear. The sound caused the horse to buck once more, but this time John wasn't prepared. He fell to a heap in the middle of the dusty road, landing hard on his shoulder, his gun sliding about ten feet away. The horse took off ahead of him and stopped not too far ahead, near a small pool of water. Cradling his shoulder, John glanced up at the woman standing above him.

Her gun was trained right at his head, and John was surprised to see how young she was. Her wavy hair was the color of rich dark chocolate and it was tied loosely at the nape of her neck. Her clothes were dirty and tattered; she wore a shirt with horizontal black and white stripes under a black vest, and tan trousers with brown boots. John noticed the brim of her black bowler hat was torn just above her eyes and-her eyes! He'd never seen so much anger in a young woman's eyes! They were big and brown, staring intensely at his under furrowed brows. He felt his heart jump and his throat tighten.

"Stand up," she demanded. He glimpsed in the direction of his gun and she kicked him hard in the shin.

"Jesus, fuck!" John cried, gripping his leg. "Now, why-"

"Shut up and stand up!" Her voice had become a growl. When John didn't move fast enough, she fired another shot into the ground near him.

He was on his feet in a flash. "Are you fuckin' crazy?!" he hollered.

"Put your hands where I can see them." He complied, holding his hands up near his face. Her gun still pointed toward his head, she took a few steps forward until she was close enough to grab his knife from the sheath on his belt. She tossed it into the brush a few yards away, then side-stepped in the direction of his pistol. All the while her eyes never left his.

"What is it you want?" John asked her as she knelt down and picked up his gun, slipping it into her own gun's holster.

"Call for your horse," she ordered.

John whistled in the direction of the horse and it galloped back to him. He reached a hand forward to take the reins, but she stopped him. "Back off!" she hollered, and John took a few steps backward.

"Now, come on now," John said cautiously as he realized what she was about to do. "You don't have to do this."

The woman grabbed the reins and was about to hoist herself up, but John saw his opportunity. He charged forward and seized her around the waist, pulling her slight body down off the horse and snatching his gun from her holster all at once. She cried out painfully as he slammed her onto her back on the ground; still, she didn't hesitate to pull her gun on him once more.

They stared at each other for a long moment, their guns on each other, when John finally said slowly, "Why don't we talk about this now?"

She glared at him, one eye squinting in the sunlight. "Nothin' to talk about. But I ain't leavin' without your horse."

"Why couldn't ya just ask nicely? Maybe I'd have given ya a ride. Where ya headin'?"

"You just watched me kill a man," she said matter-of-factly. "The only place you'd be givin' me a ride to is the nearest jail." Her lip quivered fleetingly and John felt a sudden touch of sympathy for this young woman before him.

"Did he deserve it?" he asked softly.

She hesitated before replying, "What if I said no?"

"I have a feeling that ain't the case." He gave a nod toward her gun, still pointed menacingly right at him. "You gonna drop that thing?"

She smirked. "You gonna drop yours?"

"What did he do to you?"

She clenched and unclenched her jaw. "He killed my horse, if you must know," she replied. "He thought he could rob me, too, but that didn't happen."

John stepped forward so his body shielded the sun from the woman's face. She relaxed her eyes. "Why don't you let me take you into town? You can get yourself a new horse there and I promise I'll let you get on your way."

"And just how do I know I can trust you?"

John shrugged. "I guess you don't. But you can either try me, or we can stand here with our guns in each others' faces all day." He paused for a moment, but she didn't move. "Lower your gun, miss."

She hesitated, then sighed deeply and dropped the pistol to the ground. John kicked it out of reach, then holstered his own. He held out a hand to her, but instead of taking it she lifted herself off the road.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" John chuckled. The woman cut her eyes at him as she brushed the dirt from her clothes and picked up her hat that had fallen off. John walked to where her gun had stopped and picked it up, placing it gently into his satchel. "If you don't mind, I think I'll just hold onto this until we get into town." After finding his knife and replacing it in its sheath, he turned toward the woman and, once again, held out his hand. "I'm John," he said politely. "John Marston."

She accepted his hand reluctantly and replied, "Ellie Johnson."

"Nice to meet you, Miss Johnson."

She simply grunted.

John motioned towards the horse and climbed on. He made a move to help her up, but she pushed aside his hand and mounted the steed expertly herself. John snickered. "You sure like to do things your own way, don'tcha?"

"What kinda woman would I be if I let a man do everything _for_ me?" she snapped.

John gave his horse a kick and recommenced his trek into Armadillo. "So, you any relation to the Marshal Johnson in town?"

He didn't see her roll her eyes. "I ain't from around here. Besides, if I were related, do ya think I'd be worryin' about you takin' me to him?"

He laughed. "Fair enough. What were you doing out here anyway?"

"You sure do ask a lot of questions, Mr. Marston," she said sardonically.

"All do respect, ma'am, but you tried to steal my horse a minute ago. I think I deserve to ask a question or two." He gave his horse another kick and as the animal sped up, Ellie wrapped her arms around John's waist. He stiffened and she snickered.

"What's the matter, Mr. Marston?" she asked. "Ain't a woman ever touched you before?"

Immediately, his wife's face flashed in his mind, and a warm feeling washed over him. His shoulders loosened up and he swiftly kicked the horse again. Ellie held tighter.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I have a wife back home," John stated. "A son, too."

"Ah, a family man," Ellie mocked. "Where's 'back home?'"

"Why do you need to know?"

"Now who's dodgin' questions?" Ellie pinched him in his side and John cried out, glancing briefly over his shoulder at her.

"What is with you?" he asked, the politeness he'd been trying to keep dissolving from his voice.

"Never you mind," she answered curtly. "How much farther?"

John shook his head irritably and let out an exasperated sigh. "I'd say about five or so miles. I have to make a quick stop first, if it won't kill ya."

"You're the boss," Ellie said with a sneer. They spent the rest of the ride in silence.


	3. Water and Honesty

Ellie's head was resting on John's back and she'd dozed off when his thoughts began to wander. Who was this girl? She was too young to be out here on her own, to be as hardened as she seemed. She was rough around the edges and independent, yet she had trusted John much more easily than he'd bargained on. A number of possibilities crossed his mind and he wondered if maybe she was more innocent than she let on. John could have easily overpowered her; she couldn't weigh more than 120 pounds soaking wet and she was about a foot shorter than his 6'1" frame. He could have put a bullet through her skull right there as she lay on the ground, not thought twice about it, left her there to rot. But she'd decided to trust him. John didn't full understand that.

"Are we there yet?" Ellie suddenly asked. John felt her lift her head and her grip around his waist tightened for a split moment.

"About a half mile," he replied. "I gotta ask, how the hell'd you sneak up on me the way you did back there?"

Ellie chuckled. "That's something I rely on about you men," she said, snarling _men _as though it were a dirty word. "You automatically assume that since I'm a girl, you can pay me no mind and I'll just go away. I'm a lot stealthier than you think."

"Girl?" John said and smiled. "Here I thought you was a woman."

She punched him in the shoulder, surprisingly hard, and he jerked so suddenly he nearly fell off the horse. Ellie let out a burst of laughter as John steadied himself, hoping she didn't see his reddening cheeks.

"How old are you anyway?" he asked gruffly. "You act like a child."

She instantly shut her mouth. "Oh, what do you care? Would you just hurry up and get us to where we're goin' so I can get me a horse and get the hell out of here?"

John's annoyance at the girl escalated the more he spoke to her. He hoped his stop at Pleasance House was quick so he could drop her off and finish what he set out to do.

When they came upon the bottom of the hill that led up to Pleasance House, John dismounted his horse and hitched him to a nearby cactus. "What are we doin' here?" Ellie asked.

"Why don't you get yourself down from there and come with me?" John said skeptically. "I don't trust ya not to take off with my horse."

"Aw, and I thought we'd come so far," Ellie cooed sarcastically. She jumped down off the horse and followed John as he walked the path to the top of the short hill.

The wooden shack was small and couldn't have contained more than a single room. A frail-looking old man was standing on the porch in front of the open door, sweeping a broom back and forth on the floor.

"Howdy, friend," John said as he approached, Ellie right on his heels. "I didn't know anyone lived out here-_whoa_!"

When he'd heard John speak, the man had dropped the broom and reached inside the door, producing a rifle and pointing it right at the two. John's hands went into the air, but Ellie instinctively reached for the pistol at her hip, cussing under her breath when she remembered it was in John's satchel. The old man waved his weapon in Ellie's direction, and slowly she raised her hands.

"Well, now you can't rob the place, now can ya?!" the stranger exclaimed. "Now git!"

John backed up a few steps. "Friendly old bastard, ain't ya?" he quipped. He sneaked a sideways glance at Ellie, who was glowering at the man.

"I don't need me no friends, _friend_!" the old man sneered, thrusting his gun toward John.

John took another step back. "We all need friends, old timer," he said. "We die alone, but we live among men."

The man glared hard at John for a minute, switched his gaze to Ellie, then back to John. Slowly he relaxed his arm until his gun was at his side, and John and Ellie dropped their arms. John let out a deep breath and quickly ran his fingers over his gun in its holster for reassurance.

"Ya know, I was interested in movin' out this way with my family," John said. "Would you be willin' to sell me a parcel of land? We wouldn't even have to speak or nothin'."

The senior's eyes went once again to Ellie, noting her tensed appearance. "This your wife?" he asked. "Awful young, ain't she?"

"He's my pa," Ellie replied shrewdly. She glanced sideways at John, who cocked his head at her and smirked.

The old man considered the pair suspiciously, then folded his arms across his chest. "Land's too dry for farmin'," he said finally. "Bandits run all the cattle off. Why you want this land?"

Ellie's body relaxed a bit when she saw John put his hands into the pockets of his trousers casually. Still, she couldn't stop thinking about that gun in his shoulder bag...

"I guess I just like the scenery," John told the stranger.

The man replaced his gun inside the door and turned back to John. "Well, I don't know. Maybe for $200 I could give you the deed for this land and find myself a place up in Blackwater." He pulled a cigarette from a case in his pocket and lit it with a match. "Although I never could stand the people down there. No, sir!"

"$200," John repeated with a whistle. "That's about all I got on me."

"Take it or leave it."

John pressed his lips into a thin line, then blew out his cheeks. "You mind if I converse with my...er...daughter for a moment?"

The old man waved his hand at John in annoyance. "Yeah, yeah," he said and picked up his broom. "Don't take all day, now."

John motioned for Ellie to follow him down the path a bit. When they were out of earshot, John asked, "How much money you got on you?"

Ellie jerked her shoulders up straight. "What?! What the hell are you-?"

"I'll pay it back, Miss Johnson. Right now, I'm about ten dollars short-"

"_Only _ten dollars?" she exclaimed.

John clasped his hand over her mouth and peered back at the man on the porch. "Would you shut up, you stupid woman?"

She shoved his hand away and glared at him. "What are you doin' walkin' around with that kinda money on ya?" she whispered roughly. "Just who are you, anyway?"

"Ah, forget it," John growled. "Let's just get on outta here so I can get you the hell out of my hair." He started to descend the hill, but Ellie's hand shot out swiftly and snatched the pistol from his holster, and she spun on her heel to face the old man. Fortunately, John's keen reflexes kicked in and he had his hand around her wrist before she could even cock the gun. He whipped her back around and grabbed the weapon, then looked back at the man once more to be sure he wasn't paying attention.

"I knew I was right to keep a gun from you," he said sternly and grabbed the pistol from her. Ellie ripped her wrist from his grasp and snarled at him. "Well, you must want this land for a reason," she said fiercely. "Why don't you just take it?"

"Because that's not who I am!" he snapped and brought his face close to hers. "I can't just take things that aren't mine whenever I please!" He began once again down the hill.

"Wait," Ellie called softly. John stopped and half-turned, his eyes narrowed at her.

She shifted her gaze from his, fidgeted nervously for a second, then finally reached inside of her vest. Letting out a frustrated sigh, John shook his head as she pulled out a small wad of bills and held it out to him. "And you talk to me about carryin' money," he muttered as he stalked back to her.

"If you need this land so bad," Ellie said, "then get it. But I want that money back!" She pulled a few bills from the stack and handed them to John.

He eyed her carefully for a moment. "Thank you, _Miss Johnson_," he said bitterly, then headed back toward the man on the porch.


End file.
